A few weeks ago my crappy old phone blew up with text news of a certain show rejecting many performer friends of mine…and I took it hard. I got into this show, but I didn’t care because I was hurt with who didn’t, I couldn’t help but be emotional. I wrongfully assumed that they would get it, and they didn’t.
Soon enough I realized that I applied to the Show-Me Burlesque Festival in St. Louis, and I stand a good chance of NOT getting in. Of course it had occurred to me before that I might not be accepted, but the feeling did not hit me until I saw my friends get rejected. Their rejections and my shock with that spilled over into this deep pool where I sank, waiting to hear back from Show-Me
While everyone else around me had a show coming up left and right, I sat… alone and scared and sad. Sad waiting to hear back. While many apply to festivals not really caring if they get in or not, I needed to get in, and I mean I really needed it. Not to sound like a baby, but I needed some kind of validation. As I quickly slip into obscurity with my local scene, it is important to me to get these out of town shows. But more important than that, I have been a fan and obsessed with the St. Louis scene for years, my polesque heroes live there, and it is very important that I am good enough there to be accepted. While I can’t really relate to most all performers locally, it feels like I truly can relate to performers over there. But I need to go over there to find out first.
So after a couple weeks, I assume everyone who didn’t get into that show had moved on. But I was still sad as I was waiting for an email. I was refreshing my email import button quite often. Applications had been closed for weeks, and I would get cold sweats wondering if they were considering me or not. Was I in a “definite” pile? A “maybe” pile? Rejected?
When it officially became notification weekend, I could not stand it anymore. I was weak with fear and had no energy to do anything. I simply laid in bed, checking my email. I wasn’t sure how I would react if I got into the festival, but most of all I want sure how I would react if I didn’t.
When notification weekend ended, and I hadn’t heard back I was so confused and maybe a little mortified. I was then sure I didn’t make it, and that they were telling those who were rejected later than those accepted. I suppose my only option was to wait longer, but it was killing me. Later on in the day, we were sent an email saying that notifications would be sent out very soon. I was crying at work, crying at home…waiting. Somehow I made it through a day of work but I was officially a wreck, and I went home to lay in the dark and check my email. The next morning lead to more email refreshing. My fate is in that email. I went to work nervous and terrified, yet again. All of this emotion over a tiny little email! Soon it was lunchtime, and I was insane! I hadn’t heard back!
It occurred to me to check my spam folder.
There it was.
I got in.
And I ran home to cry, I couldn’t believe it.